It started out simple.
They had known each other since they were nine years old. She had had a childhood crush on him, on the blonde boy with the sweet smile and the charming Texas accent. But they rarely spoke. When she grew up, she nearly forgot about him.
Until high school. Where he had grown, too. He was no longer the spindly boy with tan skin and freckles in the summers. He was oh so much taller than her, his eyes bluer than she remembered, his freckles faded. His voice was lower and his muscles more defined, and suddenly, she remembered him again.
But she wasn't the same either. And to her astonishment, he noticed too. She was not the same little girl with the missing teeth and blonde curls in ponytails, with the same figure he had at that age. She now wore her blonde hair down to the small of her back. Her nerdy glasses had long since been replaced, and she most definitely did not have the same figure as him anymore.
Their freshman year of high school, they noticed each other. Rarely, because the classes they had together were scarce. But they noticed. When they passed each other in hallways, their glances would repeatedly connect, and their cheeks would be rendered pink. The fourteen-year olds were curious about who the other had become, but this year was not the year they found out.
Their second year, they were both more confident with themselves, no longer the shy underdogs of the enormous school. He noticed her dressing differently, not as confused as she was before. She fit herself, and she looked happier like that too. And believe me, she noticed the way he dressed…she thought he was one of the nicest dressed boys in their school, without the waistband of his pants near his knees or images of drugs decorated his shirts like some other boys she knew.
That same year, their friendship grew. They chatted in classes, and ended up with nicknames for each other. She got transferred onto his bus, and when she was placed in the seat in front of him, their conversations continued. He requested her on social media, and there they learnt more about each other. How different they had become. But that wasn't necessarily a bad thing.
That year, they both seemingly had other relationships. She was so close to dating a ninth grader he thought he had lost yet another chance. And when she overheard that he was involved with an eleventh grader, she knew she would never be able to compete with that. But somehow she did, and somehow she won.
That year was the year they began texting each other daily, and had many more conversations. They learnt more about each other each day, and liked it more than they thought they would. She found out his toothbrush was blue, he hated green beans, and his father infuriated him. He learnt that she was still the artist she had always been, her endless toughness was just an act, and that her eyes weren't always blue.
They were green sometimes. And often they were grey, which was his favourite. He told her once he could look at her eyes forever, which made her laugh and her cheeks redden more and her eyes sparkle – god, those eyes. That same year, they became so close that they were practically entitled to call each other their best friend, though she already had one, a quirky girl with brown hair who he loved in the same way as she did. But it was true, in a sense. He knew things about her he hadn't known before, things that no one knew now. He had her smile memorized and she wished he still had freckles in the summers.
The next year, they were dating. But not officially – yet. But when they were walking to the grocery store together, talking about their favourite superpowers, he reached out and grabbed her hand, and her heart pounded. She never knew his did too. And when they were alone in his backyard, doing homework on his trampoline, they kissed for the first time. They laughed immediately after, and proceeded to do a couple re-dos.
They were close and silly and something entirely their own. They tormented each other, but in a fond way and loved every minute of it. When his Pappy Joe died, she went with him to Texas. He taught himself to braid her hair and she loved to play basketball with him (you should have heard her gloating the one time she beat him). They liked to visit the library, and make new memories there rather than the ones they already had – they read Hop on Pop this time, with her head resting against his chest as his hands rested on her knees.
Then it was official, somehow. They introduced each other as boyfriend and girlfriend now. But it wasn't weird for him. Somehow he knew she was meant to be his girl all along. They still played with each other's hair (she loved running her fingers through his sunshine locks, and he liked to brush out her blonde hair with his fingers). They stayed best friends, but she liked to think the kissing was a bonus. He was her huckleberry, she teased him, and she was his blonde beauty.
They went to prom together. She wore a red dress, like she did many years ago. It was long and brushed the floor and revealed her back and her cleavage. He always thought she was beautiful. He thought she was stunning that night. But he thought she was even prettier in her pajama bottoms wearing his t-shirt, snuggling next to him watching a movie, him tracing the lines on her palms; or while she was ruthlessly taunting and teasing him (that just turned him on). He bought her a corsage for that night, one that was decorated with white lilies and little red roses that matched his black suit and white dress shirt, with the red tie. They won prom king and queen. It had been tight between the two of them, and her best friend with her boyfriend, who thank goodness had gotten rid of his bowl cut and turtlenecks.
They graduated together. He used to tease her she'd never graduate, when they did their homework while trying to see how many grapes they could catch in their mouths. But she did. They threw their caps up in the air and kissed to the sounds of cheering. Then she bumped her shoulder against his (really his arm – she was quite short, and he loved it) and told him "you know you're stuck with me, right?" and he said "and I'm loving every minute of it."
They graduated university together, too. Both attended NYU, she in an arts program, him for veterinary. They had a house together, and their favourite part was either sharing a bed or their board game night every Friday evening (that's when her trash talk came out). He preferred watching her than the movies that played and they had pillow fights and what he loved more than anything was watching her paint. Her hair up in a sloppy bun, biting her lip, smearing paint on the canvas while wearing rolled-down fuzzy socks and one of his old button-downs with the sleeves rolled up to her elbows, the hem reaching mid-thigh. She loved watching him work out, to be honest. Or with animals. He was so beautiful, so kind and so good with animals. She loved him. And he, her.
Then she called her best friend to invite her and her boyfriend over, because it had been much too long (a week and a half) and to show off the new ring she wore on her left hand. It was truly a night for the books. She asked her best friend to be her maid of honour, and her best friend's boyfriend was designated to be the best man.
Their wedding was amazing, just like they were. It was outdoors in Texas, which was actually her idea and made him realize just how damn much he loved her. His mama was there crying in the front row with his dad, and her mom was there too. Luckily her husband was comforting her, and that made him happy, knowing it was his fiancée's best friend's dad's best friend that married her mom.
When she came down the aisle in that white dress, her blonde waves pulled away from her face, carrying yet again white lilies and red roses, he teared up. He really did. This girl was going to be his, forever, and he was so lucky. She came up to him, kissing her best friend's dad's cheek (he gave her away instead of her true father, but this man was more her father than her biological father would ever be) and hurrying over to him, where his bride-to-be grasped to be and smiled the most wonderful smile he'd ever seen and soon said the most wonderful words he'd ever heard: "I do." (only after she teased him: wow! you're not wearing a blue suit! I thought blue was all you owned?)
Their son was born two years later. Noah Joseph Friar, named after his Pappy Joe. His eyes were bright blue and he had wisps of blonde curls and he was precious and he was theirs. They made this beautiful little thing and they loved him so much. She didn't know how much she loved him until she saw how much he loved their son. Noah ended up having two little sisters, Sadie Katelyn Friar and Madison Riley Friar. And they loved those three little people so much it wasn't understandable.
She ended up teaching art lessons to underprivileged children, which made her extraordinarily happy to teach art to kids who grew up like she did. He owned a veterinary hospital. They both loved their jobs, but their favourite day of the week was Sunday. Lazy Sunday mornings, with him making breakfast for them (she never could make even a decent, healthy muffin) and building blanket forts with Noah, Sadie, and Maddy.
Those kids were their entire pride and joy. They were smart and athletic and creative and outgoing but most importantly they were kind and loving. They were best friends with Eleanor and Pluto Minkus. Sadie wanted to be an artist like her mommy, and Noah already had an adoration with playing sports with daddy. They all loved their trips to Texas (when his grandparents died, he and his wife took over the family ranch). Maddy was quirky and a little different, reminding her parents of her namesake, and they were all so so special.
They loved each other deeply and truly until their deaths many, many years later. He was perfect and she was broken and they loved each other all the same.
